


The Feeling's Mutual

by Faylette



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Otabek Altin, Dildos, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Gender Dysphoria, Good boyfriend Otabek is my kink, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Strap-Ons, Top Yuri Plisetsky, Trans Male Character, Trans Yuri Plisetsky, briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-21 00:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faylette/pseuds/Faylette
Summary: Calling it a sex toy just seems… flippant. Limiting. Just having it, seeing it, feeling it, makes him feel more at home in his own uncovered body than almost anything. It’s more than a toy.Yuri makes anadultpurchase while intoxicated, then enjoys it with Otabek. A lot.





	The Feeling's Mutual

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Viktor Ziegler (ToriLayne25)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriLayne25/gifts).



> Hello, all! Ready for some more smut?
> 
> The sex toy featured in this story is based on the Tantus Realdoe, the realistic sibling to the Feeldoe. I was introduced to this family of toys through [ Shelby Criswell's comic](https://www.ohjoysextoy.com/feeldoe/) on Oh Joy Sex Toy (NSFW). Intrigued by Shelby's comments about dysphoria, I did more research, and I ended finding some wonderful testimonials from trans men being able to feel more comfortable with their bodies during sex.
> 
> So I ignored all the comments about the Realdoe not actually staying in all that well, and wrote otayuri smut. If you have any issues with what I've written here, PLEASE let me know, and I'll try to address them. And if you liked what I've written here, please leave a comment!
> 
> Written with the overwhelming help and support of my buddy, [Viktor Bell](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriLayne25/pseuds/Viktor%20Bell). Thanks, man.
> 
> **TERMINOLOGY NOTE:** I use the word clit a couple in this story. I did this with hesitation, even after learning that some trans men are totally okay with this wording for themselves, and I pretty much only did it for clarity purposes. Just a warning if you wouldn't be comfortable with this.

_me [6:05]: so, uh_

_me [6:05]: remember that night i had a few and kept texting you?_

_Beka [6:08]: The night where you asked for pics of my ass and said it deserved a pounding so hard even you could feel it?_

_me [6:08]: soooo…_

_me [6:08]: funny story about that_

_me [6:09]: i don’t remember this part at all_

_me [6:09]: i apparently went on amazon that night_

_Beka [6:09]: Oh?_

_me [6:10]: and uh…_

_me [6:10]: I own a new strap-on??_

_Beka [6:11]: Nice_

_me [6:11]: yeah_

_me [6:11]: well_

_me [6:11]: I guess not bc it doesn’t actually strap on to anything?_

_Beka [6:11]: ??_

_Beka [6:12]: Wait, is it that one thing?_

_me [6:13]: just_

_me [6:13]: I'm packing my suitcase now_

_me [6:13]: so do you wanna get railed this weekend or not?_

_Beka [6:13]: (thumbs up emoji)_

***

After locking Potya out with an apology, and a full bowl of food to show that he means it, Yuri unseals his gift to his sober self from his drunk self, freeing his new dildo from its plastic and cardboard prison. Part of it is just a recognizably high-quality dildo, a nice length and thickness, firmly built but surprisingly smooth to the touch, fairly life-like with veins and a well-sculpted glans and a fleshy colour similar to his skin (good on you, wasted Yuri). But it doesn’t end there. It literally keeps going on, thinning at the base where it would otherwise flare out, then curving upward, with ridges on the inside, into a girthy bulb, not unlike some of the plugs he and Otabek have played around with before. Except that, well, this part isn’t made to go up his ass.

And… that’s kind of a problem. A big problem. Capital B Big Problem, even, depending on how this could go.

He hesitates before putting it on, or in, more accurately, because putting anything up his junk has been a mixed bag, with results generally ranging from “meh” to waking nightmare. The latter is what happened the last (and first, and only) time Otabek put his dick there. Even though it was completely Yuri’s idea, even though Otabek asked if he was sure and said Yuri could back out at any time, even though Otabek was gentle and cautious and loving and just the most freaking perfect boyfriend Yuri could ever ask for, and even though it felt _good_ , none of that stopped him from ending up sobbing on the bathroom floor until he was numb. Until time and Otabek’s warmth could bring the feeling back.

Was drunk Yuri so out of it he just forgot about all this when he threw money at this? His face screws up thinking about how much of his blood was pure alcohol for that to have happened. He’s never going shot to shot with that liquor sponge Mila again.

But he can't help being curious about his purchase, though, especially since it is _his_ purchase, state of mind at the time of purchasing put aside. The phrase _in vino veritas_ emerges from the part of his brain that stores Latin phrases he vaguely knows the translation of. _In wine, truth_ , he’s about 90% sure. And while it wasn't wine (“Wine is for classy drunks. We're getting smashed tonight.” — Mila) that put him in the mood to buy this particular dildo, maybe drunk Yuri is more honest about things he wants to give a shot (ugh) than sober Yuri would admit. Maybe.

So that’s why he’s on his back in bed, pants and boxers around his ankles, trying to get a good balance between talking himself through this and stopping himself from overthinking it, and trying to angle his hips up just right, before he takes one deep breath, says “Fuck it” out loud, and pushes the well-lubricated bulb into place.

And, just like that, Yuri has a dick. No straps or rings or buckles or anything. Just a dick.

Maybe drunk Yuri was really onto something here.

He repositions his legs a few times, seeing it seem to rise from his dark blonde hairs, admiring how real it looks, noticing the way it slightly curves towards his stomach, getting a feel for just having it there. After rubbing his slippery hands off on his bare thigh, he pulls his shirt up to his neck, propping himself up a bit so he can’t see as much of the scars beneath his chest. They’ve healed over plenty over the last year, and he’s never regretted having them, but, if he positions everything just right, he can look down at a body that looks… just like it should look, really. And it’s _his_.

Then, unable to resist, he wiggles his hips from side to side, laughing in amusement and an oddly pure kind of pleasure when the cock — _his_ cock — sways along to the motions.

Calling it a sex toy just seems… flippant. Limiting. Just having it, seeing it, feeling it, makes him feel more at home in his own uncovered body than almost anything. It’s more than a toy.

But that doesn't mean he's not going to have one hell of a fun time playing with it.

***

He likes Otabek’s room, minimal but not sterile. It’s uncluttered, quite the opposite of any space Yuri ends up in. What little there is in here, he likes it — the plants hanging by the window, the meticulously organized vinyl collection on his shelf, the framed photo of them together on his bedside table (seriously, how freaking cute is that?).

But Yuri’s favourite part of Otabek’s room is, by far, the person it belongs to.

And, after a day out and about in Almaty with said person, Yuri lets out a long, content sigh as he lets his body sink into Otabek’s bed.

“I never want to leave this bed,” he says, grabbing a pillow to squeeze it close to himself. “I live here now.”

Otabek chuckles as he crawls in beside his already so comfy boyfriend. “Mind if I move in?”

“As long as you split the rent,” Yuri says with a grin, adding sternly, “No freeloaders in my bed.”

“Technically, it is my b—”

“So,” says Yuri, cutting off Otabek’s sentence with a skillfully deployed ass grab. “How would you like to pay, Mr. Altin?”

Otabek raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn't you see if I have money first?”

“Mm, money's no fun,” Yuri whines, squeezing his hand tighter. “I'll take ass over cash anyday.”

“Seems like an unethical arrangement.” Otabek props himself up on his elbow, cheek in his palm. “Exploitative, even.”

Staring, Yuri crinkles up his mouth, staying silent for a moment before saying, “Okay, you're playing along with this in a really weird way.”

An apologetic smile crosses Otabek’s face, half-covered by his hand. “Sorry. Not good at roleplaying, I guess.”

“Uh, no,” Yuri counters. “You’re actually really good at it, just… it wasn’t the direction I was expecting.”

Otabek laughs quietly, wrinkling up the sides of his bright, dark eyes. God, he’s so beautiful when he laughs.

“Too porny for you, Beka?”

“Maybe a bit.”

Yuri shrugs and moves in to kiss him. “Let's just skip ahead to the good part, then?”

“Maybe not straight to it.” He gives Yuri a quick peck on the tip of his nose. “We can build up a bit more.”

“Yeah, that's cool, I also have this bit about a pizza you ordered even though you knew you were broke—”

It's Otabek's turn to cut off his boyfriend, and god, is it a wonderfully welcome interruption — tongue in his mouth, hand on his cheek, jaw, neck, after tossing that pillow between them aside, body moving close to fill that space. Yuri’s hand wanders down the outside of Otabek’s thigh, seeking the hard muscle beneath, greedily, possessively, frustrated by the fabric hindering skin meeting his skin. Those fingers move to Otabek’s waist, clawing at buttons, prompting Otabek to do the same, kisses growing sloppier as attentions divide, as pants are slid down legs eager to have them off. Otabek cuts his losses and cuts their mouths apart to get up and get Yuri’s legs over his shoulder, struggling with his skinny jeans, making Yuri laugh out loud when he gets dragged down the bed a little in his boyfriend’s fevered efforts to undress him. Yuri has to wriggle to help things move along, something that looks so silly and unsexy it just makes him laugh more.

“I’m trying my best,” Otabek insists, with a laugh of his own, as he gets them past Yuri’s knees. “Really.”

“I know,” Yuri snorts. “You’re doing great, babe.”

“How do you even wear these? They seem like such a pain.”

“Don’t even, Beka. I know you love seeing my ass in these.”

“Like seeing your ass out of them even more.”

“See. Can’t even deny it.”

When Otabek finally yanks his jeans off Yuri’s ankles, he brandishes it like spoils of war, before promptly tossing them aside and throwing himself back on Yuri, tangling together tongues and bared legs alike. Yuri can feel the heat of Otabek’s hard cock through both of their two layers of underwear, its weight pressing below his abdomen, easing its way in between Yuri’s thighs, rubbing against his moist boxers, making Yuri breathe a warm moan into Otabek’s warm mouth.

“You’re so hard,” Yuri mumbles in between kisses. “You want my cock that bad?”

The question makes Otabek roll his hips in a rut-like excitement. “Yes, fuck, yes, Yura.”

“Then can you grab it for me?” says Yuri, holding his boyfriend at bay. “Bottom of my suitcase, wrapped up in that knockoff Kenzo sweatshirt, you know, the one that says—”

“Kenzu Parls. I remember,” Otabek says with a nod, crawling over to the edge of the bed to rifle through Yuri’s suitcase down on the floor, searching, obviously with some excited haste, for the sweatshirt that may be a knockoff, but with a tiger that looks just as cool as the genuine article. As Otabek starts digging deeper, he pushes his tight ass in his tight black-and-white briefs right up into the air. Yuri bites down on his lip, shameless about his staring. That ass is all his tonight, after all.

And he’s a bit sad to see it turn away again, until the sight of Otabek — with the dildo in one hand and a bottle of lube, swiped from his bedside table, in the other — perks him right back up.

“Do you want me to do anything?” asks Otabek. “Before you put it on?” He looks away for a second, blinking a few times. “In?”

Yuri breathes out a quick laugh as he pulls off his underwear. “Nah, I’d… rather just get it in, already.”

Otabek gives a quick nod as he hands both things over. True to his word, Yuri works quick, popping a dollop of lube onto the end of the toy meant for himself before spreading his legs and slipping it inside, his steady breath hitching for an instant as his already-roused nerves react to the sensation. His toes curl slightly into the sheets. He feels a hand, heavy but far from overbearing, on his shoulder.

“You good?” Otabek asks.

“Yeah, I'm good,” says Yuri, with a nod, running the tip of his tongue between his lips as he leans back on his elbows. “Got one hell of a hard-on, though.”

Proud and shamelessly so, Yuri gestures at his crotch. Not because it can be missed, but because it deserves to be pointed out. The hungry way Otabek is looking there is turning Yuri’s body molten.

With that same hunger in his eyes, Otabek looks him in the face. “Can I blow you?”

Yuri’s silent for a moment, unsure of what he just heard, so unsure that he breaks his silence with, “You… wanna blow me?”

And Otabek’s response is a simple, unenlightening, “Yeah.”

Yuri doesn't see the point, for either one of them in this situation, but the last thing he wants is to make Otabek feel weird for asking for this thing that makes no sense to Yuri but also seems like no skin off his back. So, he doesn't waste any more time trying to process it.

“Okay, Beka,” he says. “Suck my dick.”

Yuri can feel a shiver down his limbs. That felt… incredibly good to say. Almost as good as seeing that spark of excitement in Otabek’s face before he prostrates himself before Yuri, puts his hands firm on Yuri’s hips, and glances back up as his mouth parts open.

Blatantly unprepared for this to transpire, the sight of his boyfriend’s lips around the head of his cock squeezes every ounce of air out of Yuri’s lungs, leaving him with nothing left to exhale when the toy shifts, making its bumps rub against his clit. He tries to stifle a moan in his throat, a little embarrassed, and a little more surprised, by just how nice that felt.

“Don’t stop,” Yuri says when Otabek does, clearing his throat. “But maybe you could also, uh…” he trails off. When his words fail him, he turns to his hands, trying to gesture it out. He pretty much ends up jacking off the air.

Otabek gets the gist.

He wraps his fingers around the base of Yuri’s cock, pumping his fist as he bobs his mouth up and down, pulling the textured silicone slowly against Yuri’s sensitive flesh. It’s a good, steady grind, accentuated with long drags of Otabek’s tongue, flashes of his dark eyes, little sounds of his own pleasure in his giving. Even as Yuri’s body is giving into the raw, physical sensations, all these little added touches hold his mind captive, making things feel real, right. Otabek even lays quick but loving kisses on his thighs and mound, bridging the gap between Otabek’s soft, wet mouth and Yuri’s sensate skin.

And, all the while, Otabek looks gorgeous, of course — even more so with that sheen of spit on his lips.

Things pick up, get faster, build. Greedy for those sparks of pleasure, Yuri grinds his hips, first to Otabek’s beat, then overtaking it, urging those grooves faster against his engorged clit, trying to keep his eyes open and focused for the visual treat of his cock being pushed into the face of a man who looks nothing short of pleased for it. And Yuri is so into it, aroused beyond belief between his thighs and between his ears, that he doesn’t even realize he's about to climax until he's past the point of no return, moaning and writhing in the sheets.

He just came from a blowjob on a penis he ordered off of Amazon, making the reactions of “what the fuck” and “holy fuck” swirl and crash against each other in his pleasure-hazy brain.

Otabek is careful to let go, but even the little bump he gives the dildo is enough to make Yuri shiver.

“Was it good?” Otabek asks, the sweet question of a generous and concerned lover somewhat tarnished by the openly smug look on his face. If this man hadn’t just given him an orgasm, Yuri would probably think, at least a little, that that face deserved a punch.

“Jesus, Beka,” he laughs, reaching forward to grab him by the collar of his shirt, “Get the hell over here.”

And he pulls, not that makes much of an impact, not directly, at least. Otabek’s mouth is back on his in what feels like less than a second, eager still for use, for touch. Yuri sinks into the kiss before scrabbling down Otabek’s back with his fingers until he’s at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over Otabek’s head, leaving him in nothing but that pair of briefs, and, as good Otabek looks in them, Yuri has no intention of letting him keep those on any longer. He pushes Otabek over to his side, flipping him on his back for Yuri to straddle, his hands hard to take away from Otabek’s bare, firm, very touchable chest. But he manages to move them, along with the rest of him, for a greater prize, stripping Otabek down to nothing, exposing his red, needy, beautiful cock. He takes it into his hand, giving it a good tug, watching Otabek’s expression lose its tension for a moment, before his need for more brings it back in full force.

“Your turn,” Yuri says with a grin and a slow stroke. “What do you want now, Beka?”

“Prep me.” Otabek is quick to pick up the bottle of lube, keeping his eyes locked with Yuri’s as he gives it a gives it a little shake. Yuri holds back a laugh.

“Yeah, fine, let’s get to the point already,” Yuri teases, taking the bottle to coat his fingers in its contents, putting it down nearby for easy reapplication.

He drops his hand between Otabek’s parted legs, rubbing a trail down his taint, over his rim, making his dick twitch, always a fun thing to cause. He eases one finger in without resistance, physical or otherwise. After becoming so intimately acquainted with his boyfriend’s body, how it lets him know what it wants and what it’s ready for, it’s not long before he pushes in a second finger, a pressure that his hole yields to effortlessly.

At the same time, Yuri’s clenching tight around his end of the toy, muscles reactive to just the noises he’s making Otabek make.

“You’re pretty loose,” Yuri comments after regaining his composure, pushing both fingers up to the knuckle, spreading them apart, still gently.

“Wow,” Otabek laughs. “Rude.”

“Not you, Beka, your ass, god.” He emphasizes this with a third finger, with a little more resistance than the last two, but still not much. “Unless you got something to tell me?”

Otabek’s hand goes to his mouth, held loosely over his lips as he eyes Yuri below the waist, eyes slipping away after an instant.

Yuri tilts his head to the side. “What?” He crooks his fingers up as he moves them back in, a taunt that makes Otabek’s breath stop short. “You keeping secrets from me, Beka?”

“No, just...” he begins, after the fingers inside him come to a halt. “After you sent those texts, while you were on your way here, I... thought about it.” Eyes back down, then up to Yuri’s face. “You using that on me.”

“Oh?”

“Then I fingered myself,” he adds bluntly. “A lot.”

Yuri swallows at the thought, a heat in his cheeks that he knows is turning them a vibrant pink, bringing himself back to the moment with a smug smirk. “Just couldn’t wait for me, huh?”

“More like I wanted to be ready for you,” he breathily corrects. “And I am, now.”

Yuri wraps his idle hand around the dildo, what’s to be Otabek’s end of it, in case having it in his mouth didn’t quite impress upon him its girth. “You sure, Beka?”

Otabek just blinks. “I did say a lot, right?”

Part of Yuri feels like he should spend longer stretching his boyfriend loose for this, but another, more impatient part of him can’t wait to see Otabek split open on his brand new dick, so he’s going to take Otabek’s word for it.

But even with impatience and permission together, as he withdraws his fingers and picks up the lube again, he stops himself. He feels like there’s a step missing here, spending a moment before he can piece together what it is.

“Hey, uh, you have condoms around, right?” asks Yuri.

“Yeah, of course.” Otabek pauses, his brow raising slightly. “Do you need one?”

“I think it’d feel more... real with one?” Yuri starts, uncertainly. “Like… when I picture myself fucking you with my dick, I mean my _dick_ dick, I imagine I’d use one. I mean, you’re supposed to, right? To be safe?”

All the confusion, however prominent it actually was, is immediately wiped from Otabek’s face when he nods. “All right. I think I get it.” He reaches an arm over to his bedside, feeling blindly through his drawers.

The effort makes Yuri self-conscious about the request, both in itself and how he’s totally interrupted the flow here. “Or, uh, never mind. It’s dumb, I don’t need one.”

“It’s not dumb at all,” Otabek firmly insists, now with a foil wrapper between his fingers. “You’re a good man, Yura.” His voice is warmer now, softer. “You’re responsible. Caring.”

Yuri’s chest flutters, the affirmation to be found in his boyfriend’s simple sincerity wrapping around him like a soft blanket, one fresh out of the dryer.

Now assured, he takes the condom, carefully tearing it out from the wrapper, rolling it down his shaft, even remembering to keep the tip pinched as he does. “There,” he says, almost proudly, “all ready for some safe sex.”

“Good.” Otabek smiles, settling back into the bed, one hand casually behind his head as he spreads his legs further apart. “I could really go for some safe sex.”

“Well, good,” says Yuri, positioning himself over Otabek, “because I’ve got the safest sex right here for you.” They share a lingering stare, before Yuri winces. “Shit, can you forget I said that?”

“I probably will after I come, honestly.”

“Thank god,” Yuri laughs out, lining up the tip of the dildo, nudging it against his hole. He enters him bit by bit, seeing how Otabek takes to the stretch. By the time Yuri’s sunk as much of his cock inside of him as is possible, it’s clear that Otabek takes it like a goddamn champ.

He leans in close, pressing their chests together, loving how in love Otabek looks right now.

“Tell me how you want it,” Yuri purrs near his ear, sneaking a quick kiss on his neck, just below his ear. “I want you to feel so good, Beka.”

He feels Otabek’s hand at his nape, fingers combing up into his hair. “Start off slow,” Otabek tells him, voice steady and low. “I’ll let you know when you can fuck me senseless.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Otabek’s lips seek out Yuri’s, drawing their mouths together in a soft but far from chaste kiss. Otabek makes a whimpery little moan as Yuri shifts his hips back for the first time. Yuri holds still, until Otabek wraps his arms around Yuri’s shoulders, deepening the kiss. Keep going, he tells Yuri, with his mouth but not with his words. It’s a language they both know.

Yuri continues, keeping each thrust slow and controlled, as much as he wants to make an incoherent mess of the boy beneath him. But still, even in the quiet and calm, he gets to enjoy his boyfriend’s hushed reactions, the little shivers and trembles of his oh-so-warm body, the gentle graze of his blunt nails, the continued grind of the dildo’s ridges against his clit. He hums happily against Otabek’s lips. He’ll draw this out for as long as Otabek wants. He’ll end up a wreck in the end no matter what, Yuri will make sure of it.

“You like that?” says Yuri, sliding back into him at the same steady pace he’s had set for some time. “You like having my cock in you?”

“Mmm,” Otabek shakily affirms. “Feels good. You’re so big.”

Yuri bites his lips as he pulls out up to the head, keeping his cool even though how amazing that sounded out of Otabek’s mouth has him all riled up.

“I think...” Otabek pauses, interrupted by Yuri bottoming out. “Yeah, you can go faster.”

“Faster, huh? You sure you can take all this, babe?” Yuri smirks, because where’s the fun in having a dick without getting to brag about it a little?

“Only one way to find out.” Otabek lifts up his legs, hooking his hands behind his bent knees to keep them held up, feet brushed against Yuri’s sides. Yuri holds himself up on his palms to see Otabek, red from ears to shoulders and dark eyes hooded, as he says, “Fuck me, Yuri. Hard.”

If Yuri had a smartass thing to say, it’s long gone now.

He starts putting actual weight behind his thrusts, watching Otabek’s reaction, finding nothing but a desire for more of what Yuri is keen on providing, and so does. The new slant of Otabek’s hips makes it so much easier to slam him down into the mattress, to set free quick, breathless moans from his throat, his head thrown back to show Yuri the captivating flutter of his Adam’s apple, right beneath his flushed skin.

“God, damn, fuck — Yura,” he grunts out between thrusts, lower lip lolling open, his mouth never closing completely, brain too overloaded with pleasure for him to care, just like Yuri wants him to be, the warm wetness on his inner thighs standing as proof of that.

He eyes Otabek’s cock, leaking heavily onto his stomach, bobbing to the beat of Yuri’s hips, wanting, needing.

“Here, babe.” Yuri puts his hands behind Otabek’s lifted knees, freeing Otabek’s hands. “Touch yourself.”

He does like he was just waiting for permission, going straight to vigorously pumping a taut fist around his swollen, dripping cock. “Faster, Yura,” he pleads, near-choking on the pleasure now. “Yeah, yeah, there, right there, right there—ah!”

Yuri fucks him furiously through his orgasm, skin slapping sharp against skin, as Otabek sobs out his ecstacy, eyes scrunched shut, mouth open, neck taut and veiny, legs trembling in Yuri’s hands.  Folded over as he is, he comes right in the centre of his chest, the rest spilling out into his hand, trickling on the intermittently twitching muscles of his abdomen. Then Yuri gets to see the one sight even more gratifying than that, the deep breath Otabek takes as he comes down from his high, turning into a blissed out smile. It makes everything worth it for Yuri, makes everything mean more.

Being able to feel what did this to Otabek, at least in some way, just makes it all that much better.

But it doesn’t change how exhausted he is.

“Holy fuck, I’m tired,” Yuri groans as he slumps down on top of Otabek, planting his face right in the pillow, putting their heads side by side. He can feel cum sticking to his skin from doing this, but his priorities are clear. Rest now. Care later.

Otabek gives him a lazy kiss on his temple and an equally lazy pat on the back. “You were so good, Yura.”

“Damn right I was,” he mumbles into pillow, slipping out of Otabek and rolling over beside him, onto his back.

“We done?” Yuri asks, barely a question.

“Yeah,” says Otabek. “We done.”

Both spent, they take their time in cleaning themselves off, Yuri intent to keep his spine glued to the mattress because otherwise it feels like trying to do a sit-up after doing roughly a million of them. ‘Tis better to give than to receive, sure, but damn does this leave him sore. It’s a proud kind of sore, at least — it makes for one very happy Otabek, who has happily stumbled off to the bathroom to rinse off.

Yuri gives in to a stretch and a yawn before pulling the condom off of his Best Drunken Amazon Buy Ever, tossing it into the pile of used tissues now in Otabek’s trash can, pumping his fist when he makes the shot. Next he slips the toy out from himself, giving it a quick wipe-down, making a mental note to clean it better when he has the energy and willpower to.

He still has the dildo in hand when Otabek walks back in, naked, soft, slightly wet, and just as perfect as always. Yuri, who apparently hasn’t had enough fun for one day, holds his dildo up higher to draw Otabek’s attention.

“Look, I fucked you so hard my dick fell off.” He tosses it to the side, like it’s gone forever now. “You better appreciate that.”

He likes how he can be silly around Otabek and never feel silly about it. He likes lots of things he can do just with Otabek, lots of things he can be with him, alone with him.

Otabek crosses his arms across his chest and gives him a tilted smile, and a laugh that puffs his chest out more than actually making much noise. “I thought it was obvious I did. Unless there’s something you want me to do?”

Yuri glances beside Otabek, at his shelf nearly filled from floor to ceiling. “How about you put one of those records on for me, hipster?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Otabek turns to his side and starts to browse through his collection, his eyes set with focus. Yuri doesn’t look away as he waits for him, finding his eyes drawn more to Otabek’s expression than anything else, the way his eyes flit around for just the right record, that way he lights up as he takes one off the shelf, the warmth in his smile as he slips the vinyl he thinks Yuri will like out of its sleeve, the way he looks like he’s coming home, really home, when, with the music trickling from the turntable, he turns to join Yuri again.

Yuri never wants to leave this bed.


End file.
